


Star to Star

by Makosrightarm



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Crossover, Gen, Jedi, Lightsabers, Multi, Science Fiction, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makosrightarm/pseuds/Makosrightarm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, Korra was a Jedi Padawan in the final days of the Clone Wars. Managing to escape Order 66 and the destruction of the Jedi Order, Korra sequestered herself on the gritty Mid Rim planet of Ord Mantell! But, a chance encounter with a pair of smugglers named Mako and Bolin, as well as their pilot Asami, will change her destiny forever! Finding herself a fugitive from the Empire once again, Korra must learn to trust the crew of the Fire Ferret if she is to stand against the threats she now finds herself facing, beginning with Amon, the Emperor's deadliest Inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star to Star

_Star To Star_

 

Episode One: A Single Spark

  


_Cato Nui, Alberrio Sector, the Outer Rim. 19 BBY. The final days of the Clone Wars._

  


The buzzing of the gunship’s engines filled Korra’s ears as she clutched the LAAT’s handrail and gazed down at the scarlet embers of the battle below. The Republic had claimed Cato Nui months ago - the world was a crucial stepping stone on the path to Mygeeto - but the Confederacy had spared no expense in their efforts to reclaim the world. As warships clashed with the Republic’s fleet in orbit, hordes of battle droids had descended upon the once-peaceful plains of Cato Nui, many of them armed with flamethrowers to lay waste to the planet’s fertile lands. If they couldn’t benefit from Cato Nui, the Separatists figured, no one could.

 

For an entire week, the Nuiiya Plains had been ablaze. The orange coronas of far-away flames could be seen in the mouths of the caves that crisscrossed the plains in an endless maze of tunnels.

 

Padawan Korra and her Master Tenzin had only just arrived on Cato Nui following a tour on Balan-Quod. Their presence, Admiral Tenant had informed them, was sorely needed. Cato Nui had not seen the blade of a Jedi since Ki-Adi Mundi had left for Mygeeto three weeks ago, and without the steady hand of a Jedi to guide them on the battlefield, the Republic line was buckling under the weight of the Separatist assault.

 

Tenzin placed a hand on Korra’s shoulder, the sleeves of her robe rolled up as a bulwark against the heat of the flames. His calloused hand felt rough on her skin, but even so the gesture comforted her. Tenzin could always sense when Korra was feeling nervous, and what to do to relieve it.

 

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “Everything will be fine. You comported yourself more than well on Balan-Quod, and I’m certain you’ll do the same here. We need only hold the line for a couple of days until Master Kenobi defeats General Grievous and shuts down what’s left of the Separatist leadership.”

 

Korra squeezed Tenzin’s hand with her own. “Thank you, Master,” she said gratefully. “There just seem to be a lot more droids here than there were on Balan-Quod.”

 

Tenzin offered a modest chuckle in response. “That there are,” he agreed. “But remember, Korra - you are a Jedi Guardian, and a veteran of Bear Clan. I’ve never trained a pupil with such raw skill with the blade - even Master Drallig speaks highly of you. Once you commit yourself to a fight, no enemy can stand against you.”

 

Korra grinned as the LAAT touched down and the clones began to pour out, her nerves disappeared. She gave the hilt of her lightsaber a squeeze before igniting its brilliant blue blade and leaping into battle.

 

Admiral Tenant’s assessment of the situation appeared to have been correct. Mere minutes after the Jedi joined the fight, the Separatist forces had been forced onto the defensive. Korra slashed her blade through the circuits of a swarm of B1s and pushed another swarm away with a thrust of her hand and an application of the Force. The fringes of her robes were splattered with lubricant and oils from the husks of her conquests.

 

“I’ve taken down 37 at last count, Master!” Korra called to Tenzin, who was engaged in his own fight a few meters back. “How are you doing?”

 

“Quality, not quantity, is the truest measure of success, my young Padawan!” Tenzin replied as he cleaved a droid in half.

 

“Meaning?”

 

There was a brief pause, before Tenzin answered “...23.”

 

Korra laughed and threw her lightsaber in an arc, severing the heads of still more droids before the weapon returned to her hand.

 

The Separatists were in retreat by now. The Republic had carried the day on Cato Nui. Even the fires were beginning to die down.

 

That’s when everything went wrong.

 

Korra didn’t register what was happening at first. She felt blaster bolts whizzing by her head, and instinctively deflected them, assuming them to be more droids. It took a moment for her to realize that the shots were coming from the wrong side.

 

Her eyes widened as she understood the truth. There could be no mistake. Republic clone troopers - the very soldiers she had been fighting alongside not minutes before - were now firing directly at her.

 

“Master!” she exclaimed as she deflected a few more shots. “Something’s wrong!”

 

With an immense wave of Force energy, Tenzin bowled over a row of clones. His emerald blade shone bright as he cut a swath to reunite with his apprentice.

 

“The clones have gone insane!” Korra yelped. “It must be some sort of Separatist bioweapon!”

 

“I don’t think so,” Tenzin said grimly. “I sense the dark side in this. Do you feel it, Korra? Can you hear their screams? All across the Galaxy, Jedi are dying.”

 

Hesitantly, Korra opened her mind to the living Force, and found herself repulsed by the horrors she sensed. The agony of death on a galactic scale filled her senses until she could bear no more, and withdrew from the connection.

 

“I-I feel it,” she confirmed shakily.

 

“There are too many of them, Korra,” Tenzin said, his voice calm yet full of sorrow. “We will be overwhelmed before long.”

 

“Not if we fight together, Master!” Korra said, only half-believing her own words.

 

“No, Korra,” Tenzin said, shaking his head forlornly. “My story ends here, I’m afraid. I’ll try to hold them off as long as I can. Flee into the caves and find a way offworld as soon as possible. If Jedi are dying off in such numbers, there may only be a handful of us who will survive. You are young, Korra. You must carry the traditions and culture of our Order within yourself. You must make yourself into a single spark of light in the darkness. I’m sorry, my young Padawan.”

 

Korra’s eyes stung from the tears. “Master,” she pleaded, “Master, please, I can’t leave you! I- we-”

 

“Run, Korra!” Tenzin yelled, not looking back. Though she couldn’t see his face, Korra was certain that Tenzin, too, was crying. “That’s an order. My final order to you as your Master. Survive, Korra. You must survive.”

 

No more words were to pass between those two souls. With a silent nod, Korra switched off her lightsaber and sprinted for a cave, calling on the Force to push her body to its limit. As she heard the pained cry of her Master being gunned down, Korra shut off all conscious thought, surrendering herself to instinct and the will of the Force.

 

When Korra regained her senses at last, she was aboard a Republic shuttle at the edge of the sector, passing through hyperspace along the Celanon Spur. After a moment of thought, Korra set the navicomputer destination to the Brght Jewel sector and Ord Mantell. In such a crowded and disreputable port, it was easy for anyone to disappear, even a Jedi.

 

Korra traced her fingers over the braid that grew from one side of her hair. The braid spoke of her position as a Jedi Padawan, and she cherished it - but she knew she couldn’t keep it. It would be a dead giveaway to anyone searching for Jedi.

 

Reluctantly, she unsheathed a knife from her belt and gazed at the blade for a second before seizing her braid and severing it from her head. She did not look at the braid again, allowing it to slip through her fingers onto the floor of the shuttle.

 

Padawan Korra was no more.

  


_Outskirts of Garnik, Ord Mantell, Bright Jewel Sector, the Mid Rim. 8 BBY. The Dark Times._

  


Korra set the engine of her swoop on to warm up as she filled her bag with the few modest possessions she owned. A few credits, earned with her job as a courier, a couple of snackbits, and a copy of _The Jedi Path_ \- a delivery, she’d say if she got frisked, for a wealthy Mantellian collector.

 

She fit her lightsaber into its hiding place in a hollowed-out section of her blaster rifle, then strapped the rifle across her back and hopped onto her swoop, riding it down the boarding ramp of the shuttle that had served as her home since she had landed on Ord Mantell a decade prior.

 

Using the Force, she raised the hatch of the shuttle closed. Most of the ship’s automated systems had died long ago, including the exit hatch. Korra was no mechanic, and so the systems had simply been left to atrophy.

 

Korra revved the engine of her swoop and headed into town for another day of work. This was her life now - work during the day, review _The Jedi Path_ and keep herself in practice at night. It was all she could think to do to keep the Jedi Order alive with the Empire systematically wiping out any evidence that it had ever existed. She had given herself the rank of Jedi Knight years ago, but the title felt meaningless and hollow.

 

What use did the titles of the Order have, after all, when the Order no longer existed?

 

Korra shook the thoughts from her head. They were reflections to save for later, when she didn’t have work to think about.

 

For now, they were thoughts with no use.

  


-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

  


Asami thumped on the hyperdrive. The machine sputtered and flashed some lights before shutting down again. Asami growled and smacked it again before pulling herself out of the pit for some fresh air.

 

She arose to find a very annoyed-looking Mako Iwamatsu staring down at her with his hands in his pockets.

 

“Is the hyperdrive still on the fritz?” he asked with a twinge of exasperation.

 

“We wouldn’t still be on Ord Mantell if it wasn’t,” Asami sighed, wiping her grease-stained hands on her pants. “I think a few more tweaks should do the trick, but that may take me a couple more hours at the least.”

 

Mako pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose that’s better than nothing,” he admitted. “Especially since we’ve been stuck here for days. I still can’t believe the stupid thing broke down just as we got the Avabush loaded.”

 

“These 2400s can be pretty temperamental,” Asami shrugged. “Maybe we can get a new hyperdrive with the creds we make off this job.”

 

“ _If_ Dertykop doesn’t withhold our payment on account of lateness,” Mako pointed out. “You want to talk about temperamental? That damn Hutt is the poster child.”

 

Asami let out a brief chuckle. “Maybe we’ll let Bolin do the talking,” she joked. “Dertykop’s always been pretty fond of him.” She glanced around. “Where is Bolin, anyway?”

 

Mako rolled his eyes. “He’s out trying to pull some cons to make a few extra credits before we hit the spacelanes. I tried to talk him out of it. Grifting someone on Ord Mantell is about as easy as teaching a Jawa Basic. But he insisted. Wanted to bring Pabu along too, but I certainly put a stop to that.”

 

Asami winced. “He’s gonna get reported to the authorities,” she worried. “If there’s one thing Mantellians hate, it’s a con man.”

 

Mako shook his head as he turned to leave. “He’ll be fine,” he said with his back turned. “We hustled in Garnik all the time back when we were orphans. I’ll just call him back over the comm once you’re finished with the repairs and we can get going.”

 

“I’ll get back to it, then!” Asami declared, hopping back into the pit. “Alright, hyperdrive,” she said as she pulled her goggles over her eyes and pulled a sparker from her toolkit. “Say your prayers.”

  


-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

  


“Roll up, roll up, for Bolin Iwamatsu’s Amaaaaaazing Magic Cups!”

 

Bolin spread his arms wide and grinned to an audience of exactly no one. A few spacers offered him quick glances as they passed him by, but that was it. Mantellians knew a shell game when they saw one.

 

Bolin frowned and tugged at the edges of his fake mustache. “This one always worked when me and Mako were kids,” he moped. He sighed and looked down at his cup, empty of any credit chips.

 

“Maybe I should just throw in the towel,” he said resignedly. “As cute as I am, maybe people just don’t feel like they should help me out like they used to.”

 

“You again!”

 

Bolin nearly jumped out of his skin. He glanced up to see a grumpy-looking, skinny man with dark skin and questionable taste in facial hair, flanked by a half-dozen or so stormtroopers. The man’s name was Shin, Imperial Security director for Garnik, and someone Bolin and Mako had narrowly managed to evade several times before.

 

“Oh, uh, hey there, Shin,” Bolin said nervously. “Uh, no shell games here, nope, no siree, I’ll just… take my… _cups_ , here, and, uh, skedaddle, how’s that sound?”

 

Bolin flashed a wide grin, but Shin did not return the levity.

 

“I’ve warned you brats about your little scams,” Shin growled. “You’ve run out of second chances. Guards! Take aim!”

 

“Whoa!” Bolin waved his hands around in panic as the troops snapped their blasters into firing positions. His heart was pounding as he tried desperately to think of a way out of his current predicament.

 

As if the fates themselves were smiling upon him, salvation appeared in the form of a young woman driving inadvertently into the crossfire on a beat-up swoop.

 

The woman stopped her swoop upon noticing the situation, and glanced in confusion between the security forces and Bolin. Bolin wasted no time in scrambling forward and climbing onto the backseat of the bike.

 

“Lady, you have no idea how fortunate your arrival is for me,” Bolin blabbered with rapidfire speed. “These guys are trying to kill me and I don’t want that to happen so if you could please drive away as fast as possible that’d be swell!”

 

“What?” the woman asked.

 

Bolin slammed the accelerator forward himself. “DRIVE!” he yelled, and the swoop surged forth.

 

“Whoa!” the woman yelped as the swoop zoomed away with Shin and the stormtroopers in hot pursuit. “Hey, this swoop shouldn’t be going too fast! The engine’s gonna overheat! And who are you, anyway?”

 

“Name’s Bolin!” Bolin answered. “Look, I’m sorry I have to do this but those guys really have it out for me! As in, they want to murder me!”

 

“If you’ve done something that warrants murdering you, maybe I shouldn’t be giving you a hand,” the woman scowled.

 

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Bolin stammered. “Nothing! Nothing! I swear! Look, just get me to Docking Bay Besh at the spaceport and you’ll never see me again! Cross my heart!”

 

The woman rolled her eyes. “Alright,” she agreed. “But only if you _promise_ our paths won’t cross again.”

 

“Like I said, cross my heart!” Bolin promised. He paused. “Say, what’s your name again? Feels kind of awkward hitching a ride without us being introduced.”  
  


“Name’s Korra,” the woman grimaced. The swoop gave a shudder, and returned to normal speed before falling even slower than before. “Oh, great, now the engine is dying. Now, will you please let me focus on losing these thugs?”

 

Indeed, the Imperials were swiftly closing the gap.

 

“Right, right, sorry,” Bolin laughed. “Take that turn!”

 

A sharp left turn. A sharp right. Korra weaved in and out of the alleyways of Garnik trying desperately to lose the Imperials, but no matter what she tried they somehow always managed to keep right behind her. The steadily-decreasing speed of the swoop didn’t help matters, and the gap between her bike and the Imperials continued to close.

 

Finally, Korra ground the swoop into a sudden halt - they’d arrived at a dead end. Korra glanced back to see the security forces marching menacingly towards her and Bolin. Her eyes darted between each of the Imperials in turn, counting the heads.

 

She counted seven Imperials, including Shin. There was a chance she would be able to take out a few of them with her rifle before they wasted her, but she didn’t rate her chances otherwise. No matter how Korra looked at it, she saw only one option for herself that would ensure her survival, even if it meant that she would likely have to leave Garnik or Ord Mantell entirely to evade Imperial detection and capture.

 

Korra slowly reached forward with her arm, fingers stretched as far from each other as possible, and gently closed her eyes. She dipped herself into the flowing river that was the Force, and nudged it into altering its path, sending wave after wave of power at the Imperials.

 

Korra cast thoughts and feelings of fatigue and drowsiness into the Imperials’ minds. Their advance slowed to a halt and they began to teeter in place as their eyes fluttered open and shut, trying to fight the overwhelming sense of exhaustion which suddenly plagued them.

 

“Wha… what’s happenin’ t’me?” Shin slurred, shaking his head in vain to dispel his sudden sleepiness. “You… you’re in my mind somehow… like… like you’re a Juh… Jedi…”

 

“Former Jedi to be precise,” Korra said solemnly before pushing forth a final wave of Force power that knocked Shin and his cronies into blissful sleep, crumpled on the ground.

 

“Whoa!” Bolin exclaimed, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. “You… how did you do that? And what Shin said… are you seriously a Jedi?!”

 

“Like I said,” Korra replied, “ _former_ Jedi. We’d better get to the spaceport before these guys wake up. They won’t be out for long. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give me a lift on your ship to somewhere I might be able to disappear again? I think my time on Ord Mantell has expired.”

 

“Oh, I don’t mind at all!” Bolin said eagerly. “I’m sure the others will be fine with it. I mean, they may want some creds for the trouble, but-”

 

“I’ll pay everything I have,” Korra interrupted, revving the swoop’s engine. “I just need off Ord Mantell.”

 

She flipped off the swoop’s brake and sped the speeder away towards Docking Bay Besh.

  


-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

  


Mako was leaning against the side of the freighter tapping away on his datapad when his brother suddenly rode into the docking bay on a swoop bike driven by a woman Mako had never seen before in his life.

 

“Bro,” Mako said with annoyance, stuffing his datapad into his back pocket, “if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. No bringing girls into the _Fire Ferret_. It echoes through the entire ship when you-”

 

“No time to talk, Mako!” Bolin chattered as he hopped off the swoop. “Imperials are after us and trying to kill me so we need to book it off Ord Mantell as soon as possible and also thisgirlneedstostowaboardforawhileshehasmoneyit’sfinewellthanksbrogonnagocryinmycabinnowbye!” Bolin sprinted up the boarding ramp and into the ship.

 

“Wha-” Mako was unable to complete his thought as stormtroopers burst into the docking bay, weapons firing wildly. The woman swung her rifle off her shoulder and fired off a few shots into the crowd before clambering up the boarding ramp herself.

 

“Whoa!” Mako cried as a blaster bolt grazed his shoulder. He yanked a holdout blaster from his coat - an old, reliable Q2 model - and fired a few shots before retreating to the ramp and fumbling around with his sleeve until he managed to flick on his comlink.

 

“Asami!” he yelled, firing off another few shots. “Start the engines! We need to leave _now_!”

 

“What?” Asami’s voice, fuzzy over the comlink’s static, asked. “I still haven’t finished repairing the hyperdrive! Sublight is all we have!”

 

“It’ll have to do for now!” Mako answered, finally retreating into the ship and slamming the door controls with his fist. “We’ve got stormtroopers firing at us in the hangar! We can’t let them find the spice! Just get us to Cairns and we can fix the hyperdrive there!”

 

“You got it,” Asami replied, and within minutes the ship’s engines were humming. The _Fire Ferret_ lifted away from Docking Bay Besh and soared into the Mantellian sky, stormtroopers continuing to fire in vain at the ship’s rapidly-fading silhouette as it sped away.

 

Mako entered the living suite to find Bolin and the woman sitting at the Dejarik table, catching their breaths. He frowned and placed his hands on his hips.

 

“Alright, you nerf herders,” he said crossly, “which one of you wants to explain to me what the hell is going on? We haven’t had that many Imperials on us since the Eriadu job!”

 

“I’ll handle this,” Bolin told the woman. He stood up and clapped his hand on Mako’s shoulder. Mako, in turn, slapped Bolin’s hand away.

 

“It goes like this,” Bolin explained. “I was trying to run a few cons down on Main Street, but then Crooked Shin shows up with his goons and they try to waste me, only I was saved by the very timely arrival of this young woman here, and we ran away on her swoop! Oh, man, Mako, you should have seen it! The Imperials had us cornered - no way to know if we were gonna live or if we were gonna die! Then this girl - Korra, that’s her name - Korra reaches out, and, and _not saying a word, Mako!_ Reaches out and puts them all to sleep _with her mind_!”

 

Mako groaned. “Bolin, do we have to have the talk about glitterstim again?”

 

“No, no, no, no!” Bolin stammered. “It wasn’t a hallucination! This time! She was using the Force, bro! And, see, that’s why she had to get off Ord Mantell, because now the Empire’s gonna be after her because _she’s a Jedi_!”

 

“A Jedi?!” Mako repeated, his eyes growing wide and his fists clenching.

 

“ _Former_ Jedi,” Korra corrected. “Hard to be a member of an Order that doesn’t exist anymore.”

 

Mako crossed his arms and scowled, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left. “Alright, Master Jedi,” he said with an edge of mockery in his voice. “If you’re really a Jedi, shouldn’t you have a lightsaber around somewhere? Let’s see it.”

 

“I don’t have to show you anything!” Korra protested.

 

“Show me, or I’ll send you on a one-way trip back to Ord Mantell,” Mako threatened. “Via airlock.”

 

Korra glared at Mako, but finally sighed and said “fine.” She grabbed her rifle from the Dejarik table and popped a panel off the butt of the gun. Reaching into this hollowed-out section, she retrieved a small, slender, silvery tube covered in intricate lines and markings. She took a step back, holding the tube firmly with both hands, before flicking a switch on the tube’s side.

 

Immediately, a cerulean blade sprang to life with a snap and a hiss, bursting from the top of the tube and glowing in place with a gentle hum.

 

Mako took a few steps back. “A Jedi…” he muttered. “A real Jedi…”

 

At that moment, Asami strode into the living suite with a brisk jollity in her pace and a wide smile on her face.

 

“Autopilot’s set for Cairns!” she said happily. Her smile faded as she glanced from Mako to Bolin to Korra to the activated lightsaber. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Finally, she scratched her head, cocked an eyebrow, and chuckled nervously.

 

“Hey, who is this?” she asked. “Damn, did I miss something important again?”

  


_The_ Gladiator- _class Star Destroyer_ Revelation. _Private quarters of Inquisitor Amon._

  


Amon knelt down before the holoprojector on his desk. The flickering blue image of Emperor Palpatine, dressed in familiar ebony robes, crackled into being before him, gazing down at the Inquisitor with a harsh and irreproachable glare.

 

“There has been a disturbance,” the Emperor said in his cold and raspy voice. “Another survivor of the purge has been discovered in the Bright Jewel Sector. She is a threat to the New Order and must be eliminated. Do with her as you have all other surviving Jedi I have sent you against, my most favored Inquisitor.”

 

“It shall be done, my Master,” Amon said. The Emperor’s image faded, and Amon rose to his feet.

 

The Inquisitor retrieved his mask from its resting place on the shelf and clasped it to his head.

 

“Alert the Captain,” Amon said into the mask’s built-in comm. “I’m heading down to the bridge. I want a course set by the time I arrive.”

 

“Of course, Inquisitor,” the officer on the other end replied. “To where should the course be set?”

 

“To the Mid Rim,” answered Amon. “Ord Mantell.”

  


_To Be Continued..._

  
  



End file.
